


You Dropped a Bomb

by quartetship



Series: Lushie in Love [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Retail, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-17 13:59:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8146714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartetship/pseuds/quartetship
Summary: Lance loved his job.

OR: The Klance LUSH au





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zennhearts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zennhearts/gifts).



> Written on commission for my sweet friend Lex, enjoy the first in a series of one shot fics about Lance the LUSH employee, Keith the comic book shop worker, and what happens when two retail working nerds fall in love. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> \--

Lance loved his job. 

As a teenager, Lance had always taken obsessively good care of his skin. When he got his first job as holiday help at a local Lush cosmetics and skincare shop, he'd fallen in love with the company and the way their pampering products made him feel. Two years later, he hired on as core staff, and by the time he reached his early twenties, he couldn't see himself doing anything else. 

Lance was ‘that Lush guy’ to everyone he knew, and he liked that just fine. 

Of course there were higher paying jobs. Lance's classmates and cohort were always going on about getting through school and getting themselves out of the retail workforce, but Lance couldn't fathom any career that would suit him better. He loved talking to people, loved smelling and feeling and  _ looking _ good, and being paid for all of that was the best way to make a living he could imagine. So he put on his black clothes and apron day after day, year after year, happy to wear the Lush name across his chest and hips. 

Of course, customer service wasn't always enjoyable. Lance loved people as a rule, but the people that shopped his store didn't always make that an easy task. Between bargain shoppers and disgruntled fathers and husbands being dragged along for the outing, he'd seen more than his share of memorable jerks while walking the floor of the small store. Little surprised him. 

But that didn't mean he wasn't occasionally thrown for a loop by the people that walked through the shop's welcoming open doorway. 

One such memorable occurrence was the day that a broad shouldered, sweetly smiling man wandered into Lance’s shop. He was just the sort of friendly face Lance liked to see, and not a bad looking face, either. His coworker Pidge beat him to greeting the guy though, and Lance wasn't one to swipe credit for his teammates customer service, especially when Pidge chatted the guy up like they knew him personally. Lance stood back and resumed his stocking duties, until he caught sight of another person, wandering closely behind the first. 

“Hi, welcome to Lush! I’m Lance - need any help today?” He beamed in greeting, but the second man said nothing, only shaking his head curtly in Lance’s direction. He swallowed his conditioned response to ask the guy if he needed any help, certain that Pidge would take care of both customers, if the need arose. He'd more than learned his lesson about pushing unpleasant people too far. Humming to himself, he went back to work, restocking a shelf. 

A few moments later, a loud crack tore his attention away from his task, and Lance looked up to see the two customers from moments prior looking down at the floor, where several bath bombs lay in shattered, dusty pieces. Reaching for a broom, Lance made his way over, plucking the larger pieces out of his way before sifting the dust into a pan. 

“Somebody have slippery fingers?” He asked, not bothering to hide the edge in his outwardly playful tone. It was at least the third breakage that day, and he grew tired of cleaning up the resulting mess. Above where he hunched forward, the second, stone-faced stranger mumbled a response. 

“Maybe if those things weren't stacked up like dominoes…”

_ “Keith...” _ the first customer warned, before apologizing as Pidge attempted to lead the pair of them away from the scene.  _ That _ was his name.  _ Keith.  _ Asshole. Irritated, Lance huffed through his nose. 

“We stack ‘em how they tell us to. It's not usually an issue unless we have  _ kids _ in the store.”

“I thought you were paid not to be rude to customers,” the second man -  _ Keith _ \- said curtly. When the other customer hushed him again, he shook his head. “No, Shiro. This guy is being an ass.”

“I'm just doing my job,  _ sir,” _ Lance spat, glad for the way it seemed to cut into Keith’s nerves. 

“Well maybe you should think about making your store less of a death trap for people who don't want bath bombs exploding every time they bump into something.”

“I'll pass that along to the higher ups,” Lance said with a sour smile. He turned to walk back to the stock area, and between gritted teeth hissed, “Fucking redneck, mullet wearing…”

He was fairly certain Keith had heard him but his friend - Shiro, the only one of them with any sense - cut him short of clapping back at Lance. They paid for their items, and left without further incident, but Lance spent the rest of the afternoon complaining to his coworkers about the scene. 

“Guy was a complete asshole, for no reason at all.” 

“It wasn't that bad until you two started chirping at each other like kids,” Pidge contended. Lance gasped, arms shoved across his chest. 

“Um, no? I was  _ totally _ polite to that guy. Service with a smile, and everything.”

“You made fun of his mullet.” Pidge sighed. Lance rolled his eyes. 

“Well I said it quietly.”

“The entire  _ store _ heard you, including h--”

“Well maybe if he didn't wear his hair like a bad eighties pop star, I wouldn't have to. Sorry I care about hair, Pidge. Quickest way to ruin good looks.”

Pidge snorted. “I think this is less about hair and more about you being salty that a cute boy didn't like you. Again.”

“What?! I never said he was cute!” Lance started, but Pidge didn't look away from their work, still laughing under their breath as they moved. 

“The words ‘good looks’ literally came out of your mouth, dude. Your words, not mine.”

“Yeah, well…” Lance huffed, “You can  _ be _ cute and a total asshole, and as far as I'm concerned, I hope that dickhole never comes back in here again.”

“Let’s just hope you survive his first visit, and Allura doesn't write you off the schedule for it.” Pidge said. Lance scoffed, shaking his head as he returned to his own tasks. 

“She would never.”

\--

Despite a reprimand from his manager - one that Lance made sure not to admit to, in front of Pidge - work continued as it always had for Lance, in the days that followed. The most out of place scene in his day to day routine was the occasional snooty customer, or the changing of signs and scenery as the season changed outside. The fall and Halloween products arrived as summer drew to a close and were loaded onto shelves, and everything went on as it always had, with one small exception. 

Keith returned to the store, on more than one occasion. 

At first it seemed coincidental. It was a big mall, in a fairly large town, but seeing the same faces again and again wasn't unusual. However, the hard glare Keith had worn during his first visit was replaced during his second and third with a look of anxious confusion, as he glanced over shelves and tables, waiting for assistance. Lance noticed that he shopped with a list each time, but he returned far more quickly than the life of the everyday products he purchased made practical. It left Lance wondering who he could be shopping for, when Keith himself had made such a scene about how ridiculous the store and its precariously perched products were. 

Maybe he wasn't shopping for anyone else at all. Every time he came in, he seemed to lock eyes with Lance at least once, if only for a moment. When it became noticeable enough that he couldn't contain his curiosity any longer, Lance finally asked Pidge just how often Keith visited, only to be told that the guy only seemed to stop in on the days that Lance was working the floor.  _ Strange,  _ Lance thought - but maybe not all  _ that _ strange. 

Despite his curiosity though, he largely left Keith alone, outside a passing hello if he was forced to offer one. The last thing he wanted was to deal with an asshole when he was already juggling bath bombs, bubbles and bustling crowds full of old white women, insisting to see his manager over prices. He let his coworkers handle it, until they refused to do so, anymore. 

“Hey, here comes your boyfriend,” Pidge liked to prod when Keith would happen into the store, and there was only so much dramatic sighing and ducking into the stock room that Lance could feasibly do in response. When it became obvious one day that no one else was going to assist him, Lance was forced to put on his best service smile and check on Keith, hoping he would turn down the offer for help. 

He didn't. 

“Yeah, uh. I just… My roommate keeps sending me here to shop for stuff,” Keith said quietly, thumbing at the messily written list in his hand. “But I don't know what any of this shit is, and I keep getting the wrong stuff.”

“May I see what you've got written down?” Lance asked, and to his amazement, Keith handed him the scrap of paper without protest. The list was indeed confusing; no sizes or scents were quantified, but Lance could distinctly remember at least a few of the things Keith’s friend had purchased, during their first visit. He made quick amendments to the list, and pointed Keith toward the right racks. 

“If I remember right,” he offered, “I think your buddy liked the Montalbano shampoo bar. That's the yellow one with a dried lemon inside. Everything else I've written the names beside of, so you should be able to just grab what you need. Just let me know if you have any questions, yeah?”

Keith nodded, reading over the list once Lance handed it back to him. “Okay, thanks, uh…”

_ “Lance.” _ He said quickly, a little perturbed that Keith didn't even remember his name.  _ Asshole.  _

“Lance,” Keith repeated, and any trace of venom was absent from his voice. “Thanks.”

Lance watched as Keith loaded his shopping basket, plucking each item from the shelf like it might explode on contact. He laughed under his breath, making sure to look up every now and again to be certain that Pidge didn't catch him watching Keith like a complete weirdo. They'd already given him enough shit for the entire retail season, but it didn't deter him from indulging in the giddy feeling of watching Keith meander around, finding the products on his list with Lance’s advice in mind. 

The guy was actually kind of cute when he wasn't scowling, Lance mused to himself. A hopeless cause, perhaps. But still. Cute.

Part of him couldn't believe he was entertaining those kinds of thoughts about a person he had called 'a dickhole' in the not so distant past, but a larger part of him was willing to let that remain a bygone. No sense in letting a good thing go to waste, he figured, and for all Keith's fashion disaster faults, he seemed like he had the potential to be a good thing. Maybe Lance just needed to get past the mullet-covered shell...

“Glad to see you found everything,” he teased when Keith approached the counter. “I see that none of the bath bombs jumped out and bit you, this time.”

Keith nodded, frowning. “At least you knew what I needed, since Shiro didn't give me a decent list,” he groused. “Don't know how I keep getting roped into coming back here for him.”

“You can come back in anytime you want for a full consultation, just for you.” Lance offered. Keith turned his nose up, huffing as he shook his head. 

“And have someone I don't know getting handsy with me?” He shot a glance over to the demo table, where two other employees were chatting cordially with customers while giving them hand massages with in-shower body butters. He grimaced, turning back to Lance. “No thanks.”

“You can always come back when I'm working,” Lance smirked, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned back against the corner of a sturdy display table. “You know me. And I'm really good at what I do.”

Keith stiffened slightly, eyes widening for a flash of a second before he narrowed them again. “Yeah, well. Who knows, maybe I will.” He shrugged and jammed his hands into his pockets, the handles of his paper shopping bag resting on his forearm. Lance laughed and shook his head, following Keith to the door to wave after him, but he quietly wondered how serious he might have been. 

\--

Given just how grumpy Keith had been upon their first and even their second encounter, Lance didn't give much thought to the distant hope that he might return. The very next day at work though, Lance heard his name spoken with quiet uncertainty, and couldn't help the smile that spread across his face when he turned to see Keith looking back at him. Before Pidge or any of his fellow employees could descend upon him to help with his theoretical shopping, Lance pounced, making a show of escorting Keith around the store. That was what Keith was there for, after all. Whether it was for the products or for Lance himself, Lance wouldn't press him to admit. 

It was part of Lance’s training, tailoring the shopping experience to each individual customer. He led Keith around the displays and pointed out new items, scents he thought Keith might find attractive, as well as favorites of his own. Keith seemed mildly overwhelmed, but he offered Lance his full attention, even as Lance rattled off the benefits of ingredients and scent notes of fragrances between tables and shelves. 

Working for Lush was the kind of job that allowed him a little bit of freedom to flirt, and when Lance had already given Keith several samples of products he quietly hoped might pique his interest enough to return to the store again, he opted to demonstrate a few more, asking confidently for Keith's arm and the back of his wrist to swirl sweet smelling creams onto. Keith watched, wordless, and Lance almost feared his flirtation might be falling flat. But then he actively asked about Lance’s day there so far, and Lance had to stamp down the butterflies that burst into being in his chest. 

“S’been fine so far,” he answered evenly. “No unruly customers to argue with today.” He winked at Keith as he moved to help another customer, assuming it might be the end of their conversation for the day, but even as Lance made his rounds, Keith lingered, making a convincing attempt at shopping. 

Pidge watched Keith with great interest, but every time they got within three feet of him, Lance fixed them with a threatening glare. Properly warned, they didn't speak to Keith beyond a mandated greeting, but every time he looked away, Pidge shot Lance a smug, knowing look that warned of embarrassment, on the horizon. He was torn between wishing Keith would bolt out of the shop right then, and wishing he would stay all afternoon. 

To Lance’s surprise, Keith not only held tight to the pair of miniature black pots he'd been handed, but actually chose an item from the shelf to purchase. When he headed toward the checkout counter, Lance made sure to be the one to follow him there, yet another chance to talk as he rang him up. It had become an incredibly easy and surprisingly enjoyable thing to do. 

“So where do you work?” Lance asked, ignoring the stares of Pidge and his manager Allura as they watched him lean across the counter to chat with Keith. He handed his bag across the counter to him and grinned. “You see me here all the time, so fair’s fair.”

“The ‘Inner Geek’,” Keith said quickly, like he was admitting to moonlighting as a rodeo clown. “It's a book store. And stuff. Down at the corner by Kohl’s and all that.”

Lance nodded, vaguely aware of the area in question, and delighted to know it was close enough that he could repay Keith for tripping him up at work by dropping in sometime on him. 

“Sounds like fun,” he teased. Keith shrugged, still badly hiding his embarrassment. 

“It's a job.” 

“I know what you mean,” Lance said, deciding he didn't like how the topic set Keith on edge. “I like mine well enough but I catch way too much shit for goin’ around smelling like lavender and lemons.”

Finally, Keith smiled again. Lance mirrored it, leaning into his space, pushing his luck just a little. “I think my buddy Hunk works there too, actually. Maybe I'll see you there, sometime.”

“If you say so,” Keith said, and his tone was thick with doubt. Lance didn't mind; he liked a challenge. 

Walking to the bus stop that evening, he made a note in his phone to drop by the bookstore the following day after his shift. 

\--

The little book and novelty shop where Keith worked was not such a far cry from Lance’s own place of employment. It was small, with shelves wrapping around the walls and tables placed every few feet across the slight expanse of its floor. The lighting was recessed, perhaps not quite as artfully as the ambiance at the cosmetics shop, but in a way that lit the faces behind the counters with a welcoming glow. 

And Keith wore that glow far better than Lance could have ever expected. 

When Lance arrived he was stocking a shelf, but when a young teenager approached him for help, Keith wasted no time finding him just what he was looking for. Hovering in the same section for a while before he was aware of Lance's presence, it was quickly obvious that Keith's focus was the comic book and graphic novel section, which he seemed to know well enough to stock without consulting the chart taped to the cart beside him. 

_ A comic book nerd, _ Lance thought fondly. He could work with that. 

Sidling up close enough to flag Keith down, he cleared his throat, beaming when Keith turned and caught sight of him, a startled, breathy laugh following Lance’s name as he waved. He gave Lance the universal ‘just a minute’ gesture before finishing his shelving at twice the pace, actually glancing at the guide page a few times. He cursed under his breath when he he placed a few books on the wrong row, quickly fixing his mistake and keeping his eyes on his work. Even so, Lance was almost sure he could see a faint redness at the tips of Keith’s ears, peeking through the hair that spilled from beneath his knit hat. 

He wouldn't mention it, at least not until he needed some blackmail. For the moment, it was far too cute to risk Keith hiding it. 

When he finally finished his work, Keith looked around the store to find it empty, and satisfied, wandered over to where Lance was standing, leaning on a glass display case. He straightened his pullover and leaned down to meet Lance at eye level, that elusive pink tint undeniable across the apples of his cheeks as he murmured, “Didn't think you'd actually show up.”

“That's your mistake for judging a bottle by its label.” Lance laughed. When Keith twisted his mouth to one side, he snickered again. “I'd say ‘book by its cover’, but I thought mine was more appropriate.”

“What've you got against books?” Keith teased, though he sounded a little more on edge than Lance liked. Bumping knuckles against Keith’s arm, he shook his head, eyes playfully narrowed. 

“Nothing, actually. Maybe you can show me your favorites, sometime.”

At that, Keith paused for a moment, finally nodding, genuine, pleasant surprise playing at his features. “Love to.”

Lance smiled. It was fun seeing Keith flustered and knowing he was the reason for it. He shifted his weight from side to side as he leaned against the counter, watching him, shooting him a grin every chance he got, and straightening upright suddenly when he remembered he'd brought something that might make Keith even more scattered than he already was. Reaching into his duffle bag, he pulled out a smaller bag and waved it in Keith’s direction. 

“Oh hey, hope you don't mind but, uh - I brought you a little something.”

Packed with small Lush goodies Lance had chosen for him - as well as a strategically placed card, with Lance’s full name and number jotted on one side - Lance placed the paper bag down on the counter between them, feeling smug. Looking far too unsure for a person who'd just been handed a present, Keith gently pulled the tissue paper out, sorting through the bag’s contents and pulling the card from the bottom almost immediately. 

“Aw, you ruined all the fun, nerdlord!” Lance pouted. His intention had been to leave Keith with the gift to discover the card inside of later, once he'd made an appearance, an impression and an exit, but Keith blinked back at him, card in hand, all intrigue ruined. Lance huffed. “That was supposed to be a surprise.” 

His plan foiled by Keith’s endearingly frustrating thickness, Lance had no choice but to play his best card to save face. When Keith plucked a tiny pot of lotion from the bag to examine it, he snatched it from his hands, opening it before Keith could protest. 

“Here,” he cooed, in the same sultry tone he'd used countless times before on shy boys and giggling girls during his work shifts, “Lemme give you a hand with that.”

Lance was prepared for the way Keith’s hands jolted slightly at his slow, sensual touch. He'd given enough hand and arm massages to recognize the nervous pull that melted into relaxation almost instantly. He was familiar with the warmth of Keith’s hands in his, though it was the first time he'd held them that way. None of that surprised him. 

What caught him off guard was the wide eyed wonder on Keith's face before those eyes fluttered closed, only to snap open a moment later when he remembered where they were. He swallowed audibly, watching Lance without blinking, and Lance felt his stomach leap into his throat. Circling each dip and mound of Keith’s hands with his fingers, he watched him in return, heartbeat stuttering as he did. He hadn't expected his go-to flirtation to result in near blinding sparks, but they were certainly flying there in the little bookshop, and he basked in their glow until the lotion on their hands was gone, and his excuse to cling to Keith along with it. 

There was no entirely graceful way to bow out of the situation, but Lance was determined to leave with a little of his dignity intact. If he could leave Keith thinking he was even half as cool as he hoped he appeared, all the better. He leaned across the counter to tuck the card into Keith’s shirt pocket before heading toward the exit.

“You've got my number now, so get ahold of me sometime, alright?” 

Keith nodded in response, still a little pinker than usual as he waved after Lance. Even before he was through the shop's door, Lance could hear the razzing Keith was catching from his coworkers for his visit, but he didn't feel too terrible for it. It was only fair, after all. He made a note to ask Hunk if Keith said anything after he departed, and headed home with a grin still plastered across his face and the smell of almond oil heavy on his hands. 

That night at an unseemly hour, his phone vibrated on his bedside table, and Lance smacked at it to see the screen. On it a text from a number he didn't recognize asked him if he worked the following day, and just when Lance began to wake up enough to worry that a coworker might be trying to switch off days with him, he read Keith’s name at the end of the message. Smiling sleepily as he tapped out a reply, Lance lay back down, his phone coming to rest on his chest as he drifted back to sleep, Keith’s adorable, flustered face on his mind. 

His dreams were sweet, that night. 

\--

The next morning, Lance woke to the fuzzy recollection of receiving a text from Keith, and blearily checked his phone to make sure it hadn't simply been a dream. The message was definitely there, as was Lance’s reply, letting him know he went on the floor at ten that day, but there was no further word from Keith in his inbox. Even after restarting his phone and waiting for his inbox to refresh afterward, there was still no response.

Lance grumbled to himself through breakfast and his morning shower.

Why text someone only to leave them hanging afterward? Who the hell did that? Why was Keith so damned weird? Lance left for work that morning wondering all of those things, as well as why it didn't seem to matter - he liked the guy, all the same.

Less than half an hour into his shift though, he had his answer as Keith wandered through the doorway of the small shop and made an unapologetic beeline right for him. 

“Hey,” he said, before Lance could give him the usual welcome. There was a strange tension about the way he stood, hands fidgeting at his sides instead of crossed in front of him. He rocked on his heels and Lance began smiling on reflex, even before he spoke again. “How long are you here for, today?”

“Doing a six,” Lance replied. “You working?” Keith certainly wasn't dressed for work, in dark, slim cut jeans and a snug, v-neck shirt. He shook his head, glancing out into the open hallway for a moment before responding. 

“No. I'm off. Was just wondering if you had any plans after work.” 

Lance was helpless to stop the laughter that bubbled up in his chest; he felt like he'd won somehow, seeing Keith do the asking. But then they weren't really competing for anything, given that they clearly wanted to  _ share _ the prize. Lance grinned, hands coming to rest on his hips. 

“No plans. Why, you wanna make some?” His voice was teasing, but Keith didn't bristle. He shrugged, features beginning to soften. 

“If you're not too busy taking a bath, or whatever.” 

“Ohoho, comic book kid has jokes,” Lance snorted, but he was already wondering what Keith had in mind. “Anything you wanted to do in particular?”

“Thought maybe we could just hang out here? The town center I mean. Not Lush, specifically.”

Lance grinned. “Aw, you don't wanna play with bath bombs with me all evening?” 

“Not in front of people,” Keith replied, and he was already heading for the doorway again before Lance understood what he was getting at and felt his heart skip a beat. Keith waved to him over his shoulder as he went. “See you around four.”

Waving after him, Lance raised his other hand to cover the absolutely stupid grin that split his face.

\--

Despite feeling like he knew the town center mall like the back of his hand, Lance found himself walking into places and seeing things he'd never seen before as they strolled the halls and busy shops together. Experiencing the everyday through someone else's eyes made it more special, and in the weeks that he had known him as more than an ill-perceived asshole, Lance was certain he had never seen Keith smile so much. Happiness looked gorgeous on him, and the sudden squeeze in Lance's chest at the sight gave rise to the wish that he could keep that look on Keith’s face, always. 

It settled in his head alongside the longing for the night to go on, forever. 

It seemed like it might do just that, at moments; they packed a lot of sharing each other's passions into a short amount of time. Keith looked better than Lance had ever seen him look, and at times he felt a little underwhelming by comparison, wearing his work attire with his jacket thrown over his shoulders. But when Keith shivered in the chill between the buildings in his thin t-shirt, Lance felt good about being able to offer him his coat. Keith looked even better wrapped in it, he thought. 

The best feeling by far was that of Keith’s fingers lacing with his own as the hem of his jacket sleeve hung down between their palms.

Lance was glad to see Keith enjoying himself as they snack on stand vender foods and made fun of window displays, but after a few hours in the busy common areas, he looked tired and overwhelmed. Lance wondered if perhaps he wasn't mentioning it out of courtesy or even embarrassment, but he wouldn't settle for waiting until Keith was forced to. Lance had worked and walked the mall grounds long enough to know where to find respite from the commotion, and he pulled Keith after him, making sure to propose the idea for himself, as well. 

He may have been a social creature, but there was really only one person he had interest in socializing with that night. 

There was nothing especially romantic about the seldom used hallway that ran behind the movie theater attached to the mall. Aside from movie posters and a few unkempt trash bins, there wasn't anything in the hallway, except the two of them as they ducked into it for a moment of peace. The ceiling was glass though, and the soft violet of the twilight sky painted a beautiful picture across it, bathing the whole of the room in beautiful, shadowy shades. There in the low light, Lance leaned against the wall, allowing Keith to step into his space as they talked and laughed, even pulling him forward when his smile became too irresistible. 

There, in the quiet emptiness of the dimly lit hallway, Keith took hold of Lance’s lanyard and pulled him down close, pressing their lips together as he wound arms around his neck. 

First kisses were always exciting, even if he had no intentions of going for a second. But with his lips still warm and slick from sliding against Keith’s, Lance found himself leaning in for another, and another, until he wasn't even sure what number they were on, anymore. Kissing Keith was intoxicating in that respect, and Lance was infinitely glad he had no plans to drive that evening, because he wanted to go home drunk on those lips. Keith seemed more than willing to oblige, and when they finally pulled away from each other, it was at the sound of an older man huffing indignantly in their direction as he made his way down the hall. On any other day Lance might have apologized or at least had the decency to be embarrassed, but when Keith flipped the old man off and mumbled a few filthy insults under his breath, Lance burst into laughter, and rewarded him with one more kiss before dragging him back out into the main halls of the shopping center. 

For a casual weeknight date with a guy he couldn't stand just a few weeks before, Lance found himself feeling awfully attached to the pretty, peculiar boy at the end of his arm. He willed himself not to grin like a moron the entire evening, but it was a lost cause. His face would surely ache the next day, but he really didn't care. 

\--

Lance couldn't remember a time in all of his years working there at the mall that he had done so much shopping, but rather than a tedious chore, it was unexpectedly adventurous. When Keith suggested that they go back into Lush, Lance schooled his features into a neutral expression, doing his best not to look surprised. He agreed with muted enthusiasm, and Keith led the way. 

Walking the floor of the store without his apron on felt strange, but he couldn't quite swallow the smile that rose to his lips as he watched Keith eye the piles of sweet-smelling products, genuinely interested. He shadowed him, closer than usual by courtesy of his off-duty freedom, and whispered occasional information, mostly just letting Keith look while he did the same. 

Spotting them across the store, Allura beamed and waved, her eyes more on Keith than Lance. Groaning under his breath, Lance waved back, unable to avoid Allura’s eye. She scurried over to him and Keith as Lance motioned to her, saying quickly, “This is my manager.”

“Nice to meet you, welcome to Lush,” Allura said brightly. “I'm Allura. Are you Lance’s boyfriend?” 

As soon as the word had left her mouth Lance felt himself go rigid, unintentionally wrenching Keith’s hand in his own. Never had he felt quite so much like melting into a gooey puddle, like the stacks of bath melts behind him might if he could only distract from the situation by knocking over a demo bowl. He scrambled for a proper response, not sure of what to say that would satisfy Allura’s curiosity and also keep from wounding his chances with Keith, but in the end he didn't have the opportunity. Keith beat him to the punch, shrugging even as he held fast to Lance’s hand. 

“The topic hadn't really come up,” he said honestly, “But we  _ are _ on a date, so maybe?” He looked back at Lance, innocently expectant. Or perhaps his innocence was feigned, because when Allura quietly gasped with excitement, his eyes lit up with mischief. Lance swallowed thickly, nodding. 

“Maybe,” he parroted, “If he wants to be.” The ball firmly back in his court, Keith wasted no time, turning back to Allura with a satisfied smile. 

“Then yeah, I am. I'm Keith. Nice to meet you.” He reached out with his empty hand to shake Allura’s, and behind them, Pidge gave an embarrassingly loud snort of laughter. 

“Oh my god, did Allura just get you laid, man?” 

“No,” Lance huffed, glaring in Pidge’s direction. “I can do that myself, thanks.”

“Right,” Pidge grinned, adjusting their glasses. “You just need her help to get a  _ boyfriend. _ Duly noted.”

Lance might have followed Pidge into the back room to argue some more, but Keith was grinning and tugging at his fingers, and they still had a few more places to go and things to do before the end of their evening. So he settled for rolling his eyes with a grumble, letting himself be led from the store with a wave behind him to his manager, and an entire night ahead of him to lift his spirits. 

And entire night with his  _ boyfriend.  _

Lance squeezed Keith's fingers - this time with purpose - and followed him out into the breezeway of the mall. 

\--

With the sky having gone a beautiful shade of blackened blue, the evening chill bid the people in the town square farewell, and Lance knew he would have to make a decision about how to end the evening, soon. He could certainly go for more kissing, he thought; he figured that much was almost guaranteed, with how well the evening had already gone. It was what else he distantly hoped for that set his pulse to racing, wondering if Keith was the kind of guy who would be willing to accompany him home for the night. 

The only way to know was to ask. 

“You, uh…” Lance rolled one shoulder, trying to find a casual outlet for the nervous energy bubbling in his chest. “You wanna come home with me, tonight?”

He made no other promises, asked nothing else of his brand new boyfriend, but this time, Keith seemed to understand his implications perfectly. He looked back at him with a startled expression for all of a few seconds before it melted into something soft and sure. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I'd like that.”

The answer hit him in a way he hadn't expected, and even as a smile spread across his face, Lance felt anxiety twist his stomach. 

It was feeling with which he had grown unfamiliar in adulthood - that terrifying, electric uncertainty - but it was unmistakable as they made their way out of the town square. Lance wasn't sure why; he hooked up with people all the time. Working at a store like Lush afforded him all the opportunities he could ever want to rope good looking people into giving him their number, and Keith was far from the first of them that he'd brought home for the night. To say things were different with him than the others would have been a mighty understatement though, and Lance was acutely aware of the mildly nauseating thrill that ran down his spine as he pulled Keith after him onto a bus, and paid the fare to head to his apartment. 

Of course he had concerns. Though he had half a dozen casual acquaintances that had made their way into his bed at one time or another, he couldn't recall ever going out on a  _ date _ with any of them, and he suddenly wondered if his skills in the bedroom were up to par for a  _ boyfriend. _ Keith didn't seem to share his concerns, or at least he didn't appear worried about much of anything as the bus made its way downtown. Instead, he bumped his knuckles against Lance's, wordlessly wondering if it was okay to lace their fingers together again, and Lance responded by doing just that. 

With Keith’s hand in his, he had far less room in his mind for troubles, all of them pushed out by the single thought of taking him home, and into his arms. He'd worry about the bedroom when they got there. 

\--

“Here we are,” Lance said softly, as he dropped his shopping bags in front of his apartment door. Fumbling with the keys, he labored to ignore the nervousness tickling at his throat again, but all thoughts of it were pushed aside, when the door was finally unlocked and swung open, and Keith stepped inside ahead of him, on Lance’s signal. Keith hummed like a person happy to be home and the notion went straight to Lance’s chest, settling warm and full. 

“It's nice,” Keith said, and let his eyes roam over everything. Lance’s apartment was modest; he'd only been able to afford his own place a few months earlier, but he kept it clean and cozy, and Keith seemed appropriately impressed. When Lance stepped closer, he reached out to hook fingers in his belt loops, pulling them together by their hips as he smiled. “Thank you for inviting me.”

Lance nodded, letting himself be pulled forward to be kissed. He swallowed between breaths, willing himself not to be nervous; this was exactly what Keith was here for, after all. But something about the way Keith fit in his arms, the way he looked with Lance’s jacket draped over his shoulders, made Lance want to linger in the living room, rather than hauling him off the bed, right away. 

He could feel himself falling, but he didn't know Keith well enough yet to trust him to catch him. But then again, that was what boyfriends were for, and Keith was his, and was there in his home, looking back at him expectantly. Lance pressed a kiss to his forehead, his cheek and his jaw, surprising even himself with how tender his touch was as he cupped Keith’s face in his hands. 

Keith mirrored his actions, and his eyes went wide with genuine reverence. 

“Your skin is so soft,” he breathed, barely finishing his sentence before Lance was laughing under his breath. Keith cocked an eyebrow, frowning, if not a bit playfully. “What?!”

“You're just cute,” Lance said candidly. “And of course my skin is soft, I spend like a quarter of my paycheck taking care of it.” 

“Dear God,” Keith snorted, “What are you even buying that costs that much?” 

Lance bumped his nose against Keith’s, nipping at his lips before huffing, indignant. “Listen, skincare should be food for your skin, and my skin eats better than I do, for damn sure.” At that, Keith laughed, and Lance wondered if he'd ever heard a sound so pretty. 

“I wouldn't even know where to start feeding my face,” Keith said, struggling to stop laughing. Lance beamed proudly back at him, letting his arms fall to Keith’s waist and pull the two of them close, chest to chest as he nosed his way down to whisper beside Keith’s lips. 

“I've got my work cut out for me, then.”

“You gonna teach me how to take care of my skin?” Keith teased, kissing Lance slow and sweet between sentences. “Why you wanna waste your time like that?”

“It's not a waste if I'm taking care of the prettiest face I've ever seen.” Lance contended. Keith chuckled, shaking his head. 

“Now you're just trying to get me in bed,” he laughed, prodding Lance in the chest. Lance opened his mouth to argue, but Keith closed it with another kiss, shrugging as he pulled away. “But then again, that  _ is _ what I'm here for.”

Without another word, he squeezed Lance’s hand and watched him expectantly, until Lance took the hint and led Keith after him toward the bedroom. When he flipped on the lights, he waited for Keith to move first, but instead, he lingered in the doorway, taking in the sight of Lance's bed. Lance raised an eyebrow, nerves scratching at his throat. 

“Everything okay?” He asked quickly. “We don't have to… You know, if you don't want to or whatever, we can--”

Keith cut him off with a squeeze of his hand, and a grin that bore the sharp edge of mischief that Lance found himself ever more fond of. 

“No, it's just - I was expecting some like silky satin sheets, or something.”

Lance scoffed in mock offense. “Okay, first of all, soft, clean cotton is better for your skin. And second of all? Fuck you.” When Keith tilted his head to one side with a small shrug, Lance’s feigned outrage evaporated with a shudder. 

“That is the plan, I assume.”

Lance wasn't overly fond of jumping on beds, but he ignored his own sensibilities as he all but threw Keith onto his blankets, falling down after him with a playful snort. They rolled around like children, with decidedly more adult things in mind. When Lance landed on his back with Keith above him, he grinned and griped about him being too heavy, before pulling him down flat against him, holding him there while they caught their breath. 

“I didn't just invite you over for the sex, you know.” He ran fingers through Keith’s hair, admiring its softness, making a mental note of what he could buy for him to help keep it that way. Maybe the mullet wasn't so bad. For a few seconds, he let himself daydream about washing his hair for him, fingers tangled in wet strands as they pressed their bodies together under hot, running water. Keith rose up on his elbows, nosing against Lance’s chin and bringing him back to reality.

“Oh?” He kissed up the length of Lance's jaw, stopping at his ear to whisper, “Then what else am I here for?” 

“This,” Lance said simply, hugging Keith to him more tightly. Keith pressed his nose into the crook of Lance’s neck, humming happily. Lance kissed the top of his head, smiling. “Just don't tell everyone I work with that I'm a giant sap.”

“Pretty sure after tonight, they already know.” Keith chuckled, and Lance rolled him off onto the bed and pulled more beautiful laughter out of him before pulling his shirt off and watching Keith do the same. 

It took what might have been hours between slow kisses and sweet words, but when they were finally wrapped in nothing but each other's arms, all the anxiety he'd been harboring dissolved as Keith ran hands up and back down his sides, whispering awestruck praises to him as Lance did the same. He'd been half hard since they'd arrived at his doorstep, but being lavished with Keith's attention had him panting against his boyfriend, groaning his name as Keith wrapped fingers around him and tested the waters, sighing at the perfect feeling of skin against skin. The sex was careful and slow, nothing like Lance was used to, and more like lovemaking than it had ever been with anyone, before. 

When he came it was with a broken sigh of Keith’s name and murmured words of worship. Even slicked with sweat and painted in his own come, Keith was a fucking  _ masterpiece,  _ and Lance looked him over with amazement, barely able to fathom that Keith was his. Time certainly had a way of changing things. Threading their fingers together as they came down from their high, Keith laughed, sweet and breathless. 

“Guess we should probably shower,” he grinned. “You gonna tell me how to do that properly, too?” 

Lying flat against him, heedless of the mess on both their bodies, Lance nodded, fighting back a yawn. “Why tell you when I can  _ show _ you.”

He pushed himself up onto shaky knees, tugging Keith along as he moved to stand, and enjoying one last kiss there in his bedroom before taking his boyfriend to the shower with him.

\--

Going back to work in the days after the ‘Instant Boyfriend Incident’ meant dealing with a lot of teasing from coworkers, both Lance’s and Keith’s. Lance had more than one instance of being asked if he was Keith’s ‘bath bomb boy’, and endured multiple occasions of stepping out into the mall hallway with his cheeks and ears aflame after Pidge had told one too many stories of his work hijinks, pre-Keith. But it really didn't matter, because as mortifying as their friends were capable of being, Lance liked Keith a whole fucking lot, and reveled in just how obviously mutual it was - even if Keith kind of sucked at the nuances of showing it. 

He got better with time though, and his interest in the things Lance enjoyed only deepened with his feelings as the weeks turned into months. Their first declarations of love were murmured between kisses in a shared shower, the hot air thick with the smell of citrus and mint, and Lance thought it only appropriate. The more time he lingered in Keith's presence, the more like one single presence they became, and the harder it was to leave him behind. Maybe one day soon he wouldn't have to, but for the time being, he was happy to leave behind presents as reminders of just how much he adored his boyfriend. 

His favorite way to do so was leaving Keith things to discover on his own, waiting for the message for the rest of the day as he wondered how long it might take him to notice. Midway through his shift one afternoon, his phone vibrated in his pocket, and he nearly bounced in place on his heels. Slipping into the store’s backroom, he slid his phone out into his hand, just enough to glance at the screen. It was indeed a text from Keith, with a photo attached. 

_ ‘Not sure if I'm being spoiled or trained.’ _

The photo was of a short stack of black pots that Lance had left behind at Keith’s apartment before leaving for work that morning, all brand new and bearing sticky notes with instructions for use. He bit his lip around a grin at the sight, knowing that Keith was likely using the gifts, right at that moment - knowing that he  _ liked _ them. Lance fired back a quick response, knowing he still had a while yet before he'd be off. 

_ ‘Both.’ _

When Keith replied a few seconds later, it only made Lance grin wider, and wish the hours away faster than he had before. 

_ ‘Fair enough, I guess. I expect private demos when you get here, tonight.’ _

Despite the fact that he had a lunch break just around the clock’s corner - and that company policy technically forbade texting during work hours - Lance couldn't resist sending one more brief response, hoping the smirk on his face was implicit in his tone. 

_ ‘You’d better believe it.’ _

Dropping his phone back into the pocket of his apron, he rejoined his coworkers on the floor, smiling when Pidge rolled their eyes candidly at the obnoxious customer they were servicing. Lance left them to it, opting to offer a demo to a sweet sounding pair of old ladies who wandered in, and hoping the rest of his day would go as smoothly. Chatting about hand creams and slicing up soaps, he really couldn't complain, especially when he thought about his plans for the evening, and how one stack of broken bath bombs had landed him the happiness he was currently keeping in his apron pocket, until then. Every once in awhile, his fingers would reach into his pockets on instinct, brushing against his cell phone, and he would wrestle with the need to let a smile become a laugh. He really was that happy, even while he was at work - even on his longest days. Because they always ended the same way, meeting his favorite person in one of their favorite places, all because he'd met him there first, months before. 

He really did love his job. 


End file.
